


The Familar Taste of Poison

by orphan_account



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - 1940s, Everyone is a suspect, F/M, Murder Mystery, Suspense, and also sleeping with one another, because what is a murder mystery without betrayal, who dunnit it
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-03-11
Updated: 2016-10-30
Packaged: 2018-05-26 04:08:38
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,053
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6223228
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Jemma Simmons is found dead at her engagement party, guilt is quickly placed upon everyone and it is the work of detective Antoine Triplett to work out who exactly killed her, and why.</p><p>An 1940's (ish) AOS Murder Mystery AU (that still has plenty of Jemma, even though she's like, you know, dead) with murder, betrayal, love, loss and lust.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Beginning (And the End)

**Author's Note:**

> Should I start another AU? No.  
> Did I get addicted to that Halestorm song? Yes.  
> Did this idea happen? Yes.  
> Does it work? I don't know.  
> Thanks so much for all of your continued support and I hope you enjoy this who dunnit...

Her dress was tight fitting, showing off her figure and Fitz couldn’t take his eyes of her, wouldn’t take his eyes of her as she made her way around the room, thanking everyone for coming. She was extraordinarily beautiful and she deserved more than this, so much more than this. But this was what she was getting, and she seemed to be happy, content with it, on the outside at least.  

“Fitz,” a voice came from beside him and he saw Hunter standing to his left, passing a flume of champagne to him. Fitz accepted it with a nod of thanks. “How are you?”

He shrugged. There was nothing that could be done. He had lost her, Jemma Simmons to him, the one who she was always with when she wasn’t with him. And what was he to her? Just a lover, someone that she took comfort in when he was away. But… She had always said he was more than that, that maybe that there was something between them, and when they were apart, that she missed him.

Then he had proposed to her, taking away the one woman that he connected with, that he loved. And Jemma had connected with him, there almost seemed to be psychic connection between the two of them.

“Her marriage means nothing,” Hunter told him, once again pulling him from his thought. “Rumour has it that it was her father. Forced her into this. That Roxxon is struggling finically and that this was how they were getting money. That HYDRA has some that they would be ever so kind to donate if she was welcomed into the ranks.”

Fitz managed to pull his eyes of Jemma, looking at Hunter now, his face a mask of confusion. Jemma had never said anything to him about where her father worked, she didn’t like it and there was nothing that he knew of about Roxxon having money difficulties but then again, Hunter worked and socialised in different areas from him, knew more of the underground community and that whispers, true or not, always originated there. “Listen,” Hunter continued, watched as the Scot processed all that was going on. “It will all work out, Roxxon will get their money, HYDRA will get their marriage, and Jemma will be in your bed, whispering in your ear.”

Fitz just shook his head at Hunter’s crude ways. Being friends with him meant that Fitz was used to this by now, however this didn’t meant that he approved of that sense of humour. A figure on the other side of the room caught his attention. “I’ve to go, but I suppose I’ll see you later.”

Fitz nodded but Hunter was already pushing his way through the crowd to the tall blonde that no one was quite sure whether Hunter was with or not. And it was at this moment that Fitz decided that he ought to congratulate the happy couple, Jemma now reunited with him, Grant Ward, his arm wrapped around her waist, each with a glass in their hand, laughing and looking as though nothing could phase them.

A false smile plastered on his face, he finally made his way to them and just being able to hear her voice, and to be this close to her made everything seem worthwhile. “Jemma,” he said, taking her hand in his, gently kissing her knuckles. As she gave the smiles that lit up so many worlds and so many lives, Ward gave him a look that could kill, heavily laced with venom and it made him feel uneasy. There was something hidden in that expression and Fitz wasn’t yet sure of what it was. “Wow, congratulations. Both of you.”

Jemma turned to look at her fiancé, and when she did, all hatred disappeared from him. It was clear that he cared for her, the look of love evident on his face. He pushed a strand of hair back behind her ear and his expression soon turned to concern. “Jemma,” he whispered, so low that Fitz almost didn’t hear, “are you okay?”

Jemma shrugged him off. “Not feeling too good if I am being honest,” but she simply shrugged at this as though it were an inconvenience more than anything else. “Is that Skye?” she suddenly asked, as if she wanted to change the conversation away from her. Ward looked over to where she was gesturing and it was, a mutual friend of almost everyone at the party. But with that being said, there were not that many people there anyway, just the three of them, Skye, Hunter, Bobbi, Kara and her partner Will and a number of other scattered guests from their respective workplaces.

“It is,” Grant whispered, more so to himself than to anyone else. “Do you mind?” he asked her, and Jemma shrugged. She really didn’t mind, and if it meant less attention on her, as a crowd was starting to gather. “Thanks,” he whispered, leaning in to kiss her but she pulled away. He raised an eyebrow at this.

“I don’t feel all that good, the last thing that I wish to do is make you ill.”

Grant nodded, and pushed his way through the crowd and once Jemma deemed him far enough away, she grabbed Fitz by the wrist and pulled him away from the main party, into a side corridor. Her façade, one that Fitz was unaware that she was wearing fell away instantly. “Leo,” she whispered, her gaze meeting his. “I’m so sorry.”

He shook his head. He knew that it couldn’t be helped. “You have to, I know.”

“Hunter?”

He laughed, and that made her feel more at ease, more at peace and then nodded. “I don’t know how he gets all of this. Is it true though, with Roxxon and the money?”

Jemma shrugged, the light from the chandelier making her skin glisten, a layer of sweat on her shoulders. She looked really unwell and a protective instinct overtook Fitz. “Are you sure?” he asked as she began to reply to his previous question, “I don’t know. Father tells me nothing. Not anymore…”

He had touched a nerve that was raw and was about to apologise when Jemma shot a glance to the courtyard outside though the massive French windows. “You’re wearing the lipstick,” he said finally noticing.

“Huh?” she asked, turning her attention back to him. There was obviously something plaguing her mind, distracting her from what was supposed to be one of the happiest nights of her life. “I am,” she whispered, bringing her hands up to her face, and gently running them along the ruby red. “I love it.” Biting the bottom lip, she took a breath. “I’m going for air.”

“Do you…” Fitz began but she waved her hand.

“I’ll be fine. I’ll be back soon.” She turned and began walking towards the doors before she turned back to face him. “I love you.”

“I love you more,” he whispered back, unsure of whether he had heard her.

Tracing his steps back to the party, he couldn’t help but think of how this lifestyle was so unlike anything that Jemma had wanted. A lavish manor, with a courtyard and balconies and a fountain. It was all too much for her. She had told him one night, as they lay curled together beside a roaring fire in his place, a simple cottage in Perthshire and nothing more than to settle down with him there. He had told her that this was in Scotland, what could she possibly want to do there. Her reply had been simple and sweet; she had been there when she was younger and there was a cottage that she had fallen in love with, and wanted nothing more than to return to it.

He didn’t know how long he was lost in his thoughts of her, memories of the time spent together when Skye came up to him, concern evident on her face. And it took a snapping of fingers in his face for him to realise that she was trying to get his attention.

“Fitz!”

“What?” he asked, still not fully with her.

“You were the last one with her.”

He nodded, knowing immediately who she was talking about. “She went outside, said she wasn’t feeling well…”

“That was an hour ago,” Skye said and that concern quickly consumed him before erupting into fear.

Fitz pushed off past her, hoping to follow the way that Jemma had went. Hopefully she hadn’t went far, just somewhere far enough from the hustle and bustle of the party. Maybe she had went to their place. Outside in the courtyard, she wasn’t there and he was about to head down to the stables when a sharp scream broke through the air. Skye. Coming from around the corner.

He ran as fast as his feet would carry him and a crowd had already started to gather, an uneasy silence settling over them, the only sound were sobs echoing from Skye.

Fitz pushed his way to the front of the crowd, curious to see just what had gotten Skye so hysterical and what he saw made the world collapse from under him.

Jemma Simmons, lying face down in the fountain.

Dead.   


	2. Ward

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Saturday the 29th Of October is apparently the new June.  
> Yes, I promised updates for this nearly five months ago but I had major writer's block but there's two chapters that have been written, one for today and one for tomorrow so there's that...  
> Hope you enjoy this one.

There was an uneasiness in the air once Jemma had been found. Everyone watched in horror as the detectives arrived, removing her body from the fountain. The bulbs off the camera flashed, capturing the scene of the crime forever.

Because that’s what this had been put down to. Murder. Jemma Simmons had been murdered at her own engagement party. The lead detective, a one Antoine Triplett had ushered them all back in inside, splitting them all into different groups, into different rooms for interviews. He had said he wanted the most important people in her life together, the ones who loved her the most, and also the ones who would have had the most motive.

It was tense in the drawing room, the air full of emotions; anger, grief, sorrow and pain. Trip had hoped that putting them altogether would eventually lead one of them to crack, to confess that it was them. He had no doubts that it was one of them; someone from the ragtag group of people that consisted of Fitz, Ward, Skye, Bobbi, Hunter, Will and Kara. They all played an important part in her life, well had. Had played an important in her life. Now all he needed was to find out who had killed her, and for what purpose.

“I can’t believe it,” Skye said, breaking the silence that had formed in the room. Jemma was one of her closest friends, almost like a sister to her. And now she was gone. And she was being accused of her murder. Underneath all this pain, there was anger. Anger that she could be accused of such a vile and horrible crime.

The great oak door creaked opened, and in entered the detective, ready to interview the first suspect. “Grant Ward.”

Ward stood, and took a breath. It was obvious that he would be prime suspect. He was engaged to her. But he loved her. Why would he take her life?

“Name?” Trip asked, as Ward sat down opposite him in the room that was just down the corridor from the drawing room.

“Grant Douglas Ward.”

“Age.”

“32.”

“Relation to the victim.”

“Engaged to her.”

Trip notes that down, his face just as unreadable as Ward’s.

“Did you love her?”

“Of course!” Ward seemed offended at this. Of course he loved her! Why wouldn’t he? He had proposed to her after all.

“You know of the rumours then?”

There was a pause. Then. “Of course I do. That I only married her to help Roxxon, that it was suffering.”

Trip nodded, writing this down. He stayed silent prompting Ward to continue but when it became clear that Ward wasn’t going to continue, Trip finally spoke again.

“And are they true?”

Ward waited a moment before nodding. “Yes. It’s true. If I married her, gave her to Hydra then they would give money to Roxxon, to her father. But I was never supposed to fall in love with her. That’s never what was supposed to happen.”

Trip frowned. “You weren’t supposed to fall in love with her?”

“My fiancée… she’s dead and all you care about is whether I love her or not?”

Trip’s frown deepened. “I know she’s dead. You don’t think I cared for Jemma? We all did. We all loved her. Why do you think I’m doing this?”

Ward looked like he wanted to punch Trip. “Yes, I wasn’t supposed to fall in love with her. I was just supposed to make her fall in love with me, to make her want to join Hydra. We wanted her brains. No one has ever been as smart as her. We wanted her and she fell in love with me. But I feel in love with her.” A pause as Ward settled himself. “I loved her.”

Trip nodded. “And Fitz?”

Ward frowned at this. “What about him?”

Trip paused, knowing that he had said something wrong. Overstepped a mark. “You didn’t know that Jemma was sleeping with him? That she had a close intimate relationship with him?”

Ward saw red and that’s when Trip realised that he had said something wrong. “You didn’t know she was sleeping with him.”

Ward shook his head and stood up, and made his way to the door. Trip watched him go, and wanted to go after him because he knew where Ward would be going.

To Fitz.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Everyone has a motive in this one, which was the hardest part for me to write but hopefully this all works out,  
> Thanks for checking out and hope you enjoyed, feel free to leave your thoughts in the comments.


	3. Perthshire

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So more of this... Anything Italics refers to the mystery that is the past

_She carried the mug of tea into her room, and curled up on the bed, watching him get dressed._

_“You can stay another two nights longer,” she whispered._

_He spun, confused._

_“He’s away again, Fitz,” she smiled, glad at the news. “He’s stuck in Scotland.”_

_“Another meeting?”_

_She nodded, smiling at him, at the man that she truly loved._

_Because it was Fitz, and not Ward that she had loved._

_The only reason that she was with Ward was politics. Politics and money but as soon as that was sorted, as soon as her father had gotten the money, she could leave him, to be with Fitz._

_Because the only reason that she was with Ward was because of her parents, and in particular her father._

_He, his company, was in serious money issues. And the only reason that she was doing it was because of him, despite the tensions that had existed between the two of them, he was still her father._

_And so far, the plan was working, she had fooled Ward that she had loved him, and in the end he was falling in love with her._

_But Fitz didn’t know this. Couldn’t know this._

_Not yet anyway._

_But…_

_No._

_She couldn’t._

_Could she?_

_She swallowed hard, and Fitz must have noticed that something was wrong. “Jems?”_

_“Let’s run away,” she whispered, turning to him and smiling. “Me and you. Just us two. Let’s runway together.”_

_Fitz frowned at her, wondering what she was talking about. “But Ward?”_

_She shook her head._

_“It’s you,” she said. “It’s always been you. I love you, you know that don’t you?”_

_He nodded, placing a kiss on her forehead as she rested against him again. “But where would we run away to?”_

_“Perthshire. There was a cottage there, one that I had fallen in love with when I was there younger. I want, I want to go back there.”_

_Fitz smiled, then answered her. “Perthshire’s in Scotland.”_

_“Ugh Fitz,” she said, exasperation evident in her voice, and her eyes rolled before she spun around and pulled him in for a kiss._

Fitz thought of the memories of their night together that had been only a month ago.

One of their final nights together.

It still hadn’t sunk in yet. That Jemma Simmons was dead, that she wasn’t going to come back.

That she wasn’t ever going to come back again.

Looking up from his corner of the drawing room, he took the room in.

Bobbi had her arms wrapped around Skye, who was still shaking, who still had tears streaming down her face.

Hunter was sitting of the sofa, staring down at his hands, wringing them nervously.

Will and Kara had taken an area to themselves and were speaking in hushed whispers to each other.

And Trip has taken Ward to the room that was being used as a makeshift integration room. Asking him questions.

Grief overtook him suddenly, thinking about that.

That the fact that Jemma had been murdered.

That someone here could have killed her.

Left her for dead in that fountain.

Did Mack know yet? A mutual friend of both of them. Did he know yet?

Did her parents know yet?

And if not, when would they be told?

A slamming of a door knocked him out of his thoughts.

“You were sleeping with her.”

It was not a question.

And it was coming from Ward.

He was standing in the doorway, furious.

He had found out.

He had found out that they had been together.

“You were sleeping with her.”

Fitz looked up at him, focusing his attention on her fiancé.

Before Fitz could do anything, before he could do more than stand up. Ward was storming towards him, the entire room had their attention fixed on him.

“You killed her,” he all but spat in Fitz’s face, forcing him back against the room. “You killed her.”

Fitz was shocked, and struggling to breath. Ward’s arm was forced against his neck, limiting both his movement and his words but he managed to choke out. “It wasn’t me.”

Ward shook his head, and gave a bitter laugh. “Because you couldn’t have her, you killed her. Because you couldn’t have her, so then I couldn’t have her so you took her life.”

Fitz tried to shake his head, to object but Ward wouldn’t let him.

“Ward!” Trip’s voice rang out. “Let him down.”

Ward spun, dropping Fitz, choking and spluttering to the floor.

“It’s not your investigation.”

“She was my fiancée.”

“And I _will_ find out who killed her. Now let it go.”

Ward walked away, shooing one final angry glance at Fitz.

Trip turned his attention back to the Scot. “Fitz, you’re up next.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you guys are enjoying this and that I'm making a good murder mystery as I've never written one of them before! Next update may be in a number of weeks but thanks for checking out!

**Author's Note:**

> Like, even though she's dead, there will still be plenty of her as I am going to try and write as much in flashbacks as I possibly can when they are being interviewed and to show why everyone has a motive, even those who you don't expect it to be (or want it to be...)  
> And am I right to say there has been another FitzSimmons Murder Mystery AU somewhere here that I have missed somewhere and somehow.... I feel there has...  
> Thanks so much for reading, and I hope that you enjoyed this mess of a thing. Feel free to comment along and try and guess who it was, I actually know (when I started even I didn't but know, thankfully, that's been resolved).  
> Marvel owns all and the title is from the Halestorm song of the same name.


End file.
